


One Night on Yavin 4

by Tamaru



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Translation, orignially in chinese
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 08:45:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10738191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamaru/pseuds/Tamaru
Summary: a night that they spent at the home base of the Rebellions.





	One Night on Yavin 4

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [[SW] [原创] 【侠盗一号】One Night on Yavin 4（Baze/Chirrut）](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/286392) by Ekabell. 



> From the author:  
> I tried to write something short about two-way hurt and comfort. Look what I've done... 
> 
> From the translator:  
> Thanks Ekabell for authorizing me to do this translation! Love the 'Gun&Stick' couple XD  
> English is not my first language, so any comment or correction would be super welcomed!  
> Hope you guys can feel the tenderness and connection shown in this fic as much as I do :)

\--------------------------------

He’s floating.   
His body and mind seemed to pause synchronously for a while, until the light of day made him brought up his hands to shade his eyes.  
A moment ago his brain was vibrating with thoughts, like a thousand lions roaring within his vine and nerves. Jyn’s plan. K2 and Cassian were arguing somewhere in the distance. Bodhi offered him a cup of water with shaking hands. Jyn’s plan. Jyn’s plan. Jyn’s plan…  
A familiar sense of oppression and sound of wind startled him.  
Baze's heart sunk.  
—— No.  
Not now, not now. He needed energy. He needed to concentrate.   
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. Sound of water caught his ears, falling close or far away. He tried to meditate, tried to relax. He tried to depict Chirrut in praying position. But again there’s nothing under his feet.  
He heard reluctant footsteps. The water ran quietly now, but not disappearing. Tiny peddles moved and fell from time to time, like the tips of waves were dipped by seagull’s wing. And then he saw Chirrut.  
Of course it’s Chirrut. It could only be Chirrut.  
But it’s not the current Chirrut. He was wearing his old but tidy apprentice robe, the rough material a bit loose on his small frame. Baze knew without looking that he didn’t have the small winkles at the corner of his eyes, his brow more relaxed, his hair softer and pitch black to the very end.   
Baze’s expression softened. What a familiar scene. If not for his logic probing like needles between his ears, he would have lost in memory.  
Wake up, Malbus, wake up. He roared to himself.   
But his eyes were still glued to Chirrut. It had became his second nature. Carefully, almost voraciously, he followed Chirrut’s every moment, watching him taking his steps, fingers reaching out unconsciously. Water in the river flowed around him at an abnormal height, the waves starting to drench his rolled-up sleeves.  
Chirrut stumbled.  
“Baze, where are you?” His shaking voice reached Baze’s mind.  
I’m here. —— All the cells inside Baze’s body were answering. No sound. The needles between his ears reminded him his situation.  
This is not real. He helplessly reminded himself.  
“Where are you?” More desperate now, Chirrut picked up his pace, stumbling more with every few steps. Nonetheless he continued to walk. The wave began to lap his shoulder.  
Take off that damn rags on you! Baze shouted silently. His body betrayed his logic and started to struggle, hanging in midair in a twisted form, strong force choking his throat.   
Not now, not NOW! You are not blind yet,  
—— you should be far from the age to bear such pain.  
But Chirrut didn’t hear him. His tiny frame stumbled forward, then tripped over a piece of rock. He was brought to his knees, hands on the ground.   
Baze felt like his veins were going to explode in his head. Familiar anger began to tear his heart apart. Again, he knew he’s walking towards the abyss, the black hole of sorrow and fear ——  
The water flew over Chirrut’s chest, his should slightly shaking.   
Baze closed his eyes, welcoming his fall ——

 

Baze opened his eyes. Quietness around.   
“My friend.” A warm hand smoothed over his violently heaving chest.   
Baze panted heavily. His eyes lost locus for a while, until he realized it’s the ceiling of the Rebellion Base he’s staring at.   
And then he mumbled, annoyed.  
Chirrut was sitting by his bed, “looking” at him worriedly.  
“Again?” He asked.  
“Again.” Baze replied, struggling to sit up on the bed.  
Chirrut’s hand glided to his back, padding gently, a secret ritual only between the two of them. For a while no one spoke.  
Baze noticed Chirrut’s robe was soaked with moist. “You were out?”  
“Meditation.” Chirrut simply said. Then there’re more silence.   
“You know, it’s been a long time,” Baze finally spoke, “several years. This time, probably because of the air here.”  
Chirrut squeezed his finger, showing his understanding.  
“You idiot.” Moments later, Baze let out a long breath.  
Chirrut raised an eye brow.   
“When I say run, you run. Understand?”  
Chirrut smiled. “I understand.”  
“You don’t.” Baze almost growled. There's some remaining emotions drumming in his chest.  
“Scars make us who we are, Baze.” Said Chirrut, his hand touching the mark on Baze’s temple, then down, down to the corner of his mouth.   
Baze kissed the fingers.  
A smile appeared on Chirrut’s face. “Now’s better. You’re like a gunpowder barrel this morning. I could feel the pilot shivering next to you."  
“That was not my problem.” Baze replied stiffly, but if Chirrut was able to see, he could tell that Baze’s expression became softer. Up to this moment, he’s finally back to the real world.  
Chirrut knew Baze had been troubled by dreams in the past many years, but that’s as far as he knew. Baze saved the details for himself, and Chirrut didn’t ask. They shared everything, including mutual respect, and more often than not Baze chose silence over everything.   
“About those kids…” Baze paused, seemed to try find a more polite phase.   
“The Force will guide me onto the right path.”  
“Yeah, yeah, as usual —— “  
“As usual?”  
“Which leads us to troubles.”  
“A very vague complain, my friend.“  
Baze grunted again.  
“I’m afraid tomorrow would be a long day. You sure you don’t want to go back to sleep?” Asked Chirrut.   
“Maybe.” Baze shifted a bit, and Chirrut took the hint and snuggled closer.   
And they stayed like that, shoulder touching, fingers clinging, like the numerous cold nights they had shared before, waiting the arrival of the dawn. 

\--------------------------------

Baze didn’t know that Chirrut was not completely in the dark.  
About his dilemma. About his nightmares.  
In the first few years when he could see no more, days were same as nights, and nights were same as days. Nights after nights, he got up and curled up quietly on the bench near Baze’s bed.   
With reason unknown, after that he was not so afraid. Later he thought, it’s because Baze had shared his fear.  
In the dreams.  
It’s their shared abyss, and their shared light. 

END


End file.
